Like Watching the Grass Grow

Kaeli

Eventually, I found myself in a land of pastel, of clean squares and ornate architecture. A long plane of gardens and villas, perfect trees, grid lines and curved surfaces broken up in pleasing ways to keep monotony away. Spiral columns holding up veils and sheets, wide beds for reclining and sleep. It was a place not unlike the perfection of a video game.

I joined my old friend; she was walking with a small child, a little girl of four years. We were going around between places, looking, talking, feeling, enjoying. “This is a beautiful place,” I eventually said, taking in the scene.

“You like this?” my friend asked, turning her face toward me.

“Yeah”

Pointing to the child, “Kaeli made this.”

I stood still and looked at the young girl, stunned. She smiled and skipped away to go play with some flowers.

My friend crossed her arms and beamed. “You know what she did when she was three days old?” smiling. “She made Mars.”